


The Gentle Sin is This

by wardo_wedidit



Series: I See Fire [2]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Library, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Pre-Slash, References to Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 22:23:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2325326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wardo_wedidit/pseuds/wardo_wedidit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry tries to enlist Nick's help with his coursework, and there are definitely no Shakespearean parallels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gentle Sin is This

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say, autumn and pumpkin spice lattes and afternoons in my college library made me want to revisit this 'verse. As well as my mind-numbing Shakespeare class and my conversations with [Rachel](http://goingxmissing.tumblr.com/), who was kind enough to give me a Britpick and talk with me about ~future ramblings in this verse. I love her, what else is new. 
> 
> #preslashforever

"Aren't you supposed to be studying, Harold?"

Harry is currently resting his head in his arms on Nick's desk, snuffling a little. He's been drifting in and out for probably the last hour or so... he went out with the boys last night and then had an 8 a.m. lecture this morning. He's tired and he misses his bed, to be quite honest. But he's not about to go take a nap instead of bothering Nick during his shift. 

Even if that means sleeping on his desk. Which apparently it does today. 

"Mmph," Harry says, very eloquently, eyes still shut. Nick laughs, reaching forward and tugging on one of Harry's curls. Harry grins, smile hidden in his arms, pushing his head into Nick's hand  
slightly. Nick sighs and Harry can practically hear him roll his eyes, but he doesn't move his hand away, instead shifting over to pet Harry's hair softly. 

Harry lifts his head carefully so as to not dislodge Nick's hand. He opens his eyes a little blearily, eyelashes fluttering as he looks at Nick from underneath them. "Hi," he says, voice rough with sleepiness, thrilling when Nick's cheeks go a little pink at the sound. 

Nick grins in spite of himself, voice soft when he speaks. "Hello, you menace." He removes his hand and turns back to his computer, typing, and Harry pouts. Unfortunately, Nick is stubbornly not looking, so it's ineffective. 

So instead he leans back, stretching out his arms above his head and yawning, letting his tight black t-shirt ruck up over his stomach, displaying his laurel tattoos. He knows Nick can see it out of the corner of his eye, because the pink on his cheeks deepens slightly.

Harry likes winning.

The laurels are the latest additions to his ever-growing collection, and he thinks they’re his favourite so far. He’d gotten off with a boy in the toilets of a club last week who’d run his hands back and forth over the slightly red, raised skin as he’d blown him, and it’d felt _so good._ He’d been quite drunk at the time--drunk enough to forget the guy’s name and let his mind wander, picture Nick on his knees instead. 

His orgasm had crept up on him, fast enough that he hadn’t been able to warn the guy. He’d felt so fucking guilty, so out of it that the boy had slipped out of the cubicle before Harry had a chance to reciprocate. 

"Oh my god, get back to work, you little show off," Nick says, grumbling something under his breath that Harry doesn’t catch, apart from the words “bloody unfair”. 

"I _caaaaaan't,_ " Harry whines, sitting normally again so Nick will look at him directly. "Niiiiick, it's too hard."

Nick rolls his eyes, still typing. "You are such a child."

Harry pouts at his textbook, trying to look as pitiful as possible. He actually does have a test tomorrow, which is unfortunate as he understands nothing. 

Nick's typing slows a bit, and then Harry hears his chair wheeling over. "What are you working on, then?" he says, indulgent smile playing at the corner of his lips like this was always going to be the end result and he knows it. Harry tries not to grin too much, lest he seem smug. 

" _Henry V,_ " he says, pushing the textbook closer to Nick. "For my Shakespeare course. Help me," he whines, doing his best puppy dog eyes. 

Nick makes a face, caught between disgust and delight. "Oooh, you’re in trouble then, Styles.”

He doesn’t even try to conceal the way his face falls. “Why?”

“Well, let me tell you a secret,” Nick says, leaning in, mischievous smile on his lips. Butterflies swirl in Harry’s stomach as their heads bend low over the table between them. Nick whispers, “I never read it.”

Harry bursts out a laugh so loud that he gets shushed by another librarian stacking books back on the shelves, which makes Nick blush even through his own quiet giggles. “Oh my god,” he says. “You’re _useless,_ Grimshaw. You did English. You’re a _librarian._ Isn’t Shakespeare like, your Bible or summat?”

Harry decides, right then, that Nick’s mock-offended face is his favourite face. “Alright, Harold, settle down! No need for judgement! Besides, no one cares about the ones about the kings. They’re rubbish.” 

He smoothes his long, delicate fingers across the cover of Harry’s _The Complete William Shakespeare_ with a tenderness that makes Harry a little bit breathless, makes him wonder what it would feel like to have Nick’s fingers over his body like that--his face, the curve of his jaw, his bicep, the jut of his hipbone...

“Like the others, though,” Nick says, softly and seriously. “ _Othello’s_ quite good. _Midsummer. Romeo & Juliet._” His fingertips track over the spine, slow and careful and Harry feels like his heart’s beating so loud he’s _sure_ that old woman is going to shush him again. 

Harry reaches out, thumbs over the corner of the book, running his skin over the pages. He edges his wrist over a bit so that his hand brushes against Nick’s just so, light enough to make him shiver. Nick doesn’t say anything, like maybe he didn’t even notice. Maybe if Harry pretends to be fiddling with the book they can just stay still, right where they are--a silent truce of sorts--and Harry can imagine that it’s not a big deal, touching Nick. Like it’s something that he gets to do all the time, whenever he wants. That this moment is just another in a long line of casual, comfortable, and intimate seconds of contact. He doesn’t have to savour this. 

Still, there’s a part of him that believes that it wouldn’t _matter_ \--even if he and Nick were together, he wouldn’t be able to get over the wonder of it. Just... he likes Nick so _much._ Harry’s the type to fall fast and hard and he knows it, but at the same time he’s absolutely sure that he’s never felt so strongly about anyone before, and it’s so ridiculous because they haven’t even so much as kissed. Instead he’s mentally cataloguing tiny little touches like this. 

Harry tears his eyes away from the touch to see Nick looking down at their hands, blushing slightly, a shy smile on his face that Harry wants to capture forever, hold it in his pocket and take it out on rainy days like a surrogate sun. 

“Nick, can you--” someone says, and they both jump about a mile, like they’ve just remembered there are other people in the world. Nick pushes the book away from him like it’s on fire, and Harry’s heart settles back down in his chest. 

It’s just Fiona, Nick’s coworker, but Nick is jumping up and rambling about something or other and heading off to follow her down the stacks. 

And Harry should be shattered, this little possibility of a moment being interrupted, and he is disappointed, a bit. But mostly he just feels a bit triumphant over the furious blush of Nick’s cheeks, the way he shoots Harry a fond and slightly hysterical look over his shoulder, like he’s blown apart as well. 

Harry just grins at him, thumping open his textbook on the table again and leaning back in his chair. He’ll be here when Nick gets back. 

He can wait. They have loads of time.


End file.
